Not Over Yet
by Ski-0
Summary: Voldemort is gone, but life isn't a bed of roses. They may have won the war, but the battle for a 'normal' life has just begun. Each chap features different characters. Chap 2: Hermione and Ginny. A dash of RHr as well. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Not Over Yet**

**Chapter 1**

_A/N: Well, I've been in a writing mood lately, and this is what springed up. Every chapter is a different character, detailing the events after the Wizarding War. So now, I present to you, chapter one of _**Not Over Yet**_, Harry and Neville after the Final Battle. Somewhat connected to _**Major Miscalculation,** _and _**Nothing Boring About A War**_. However, you don't need to read those first, you'll still be able to understand this. But I do advise that you scurry over to my profile and take a peek. ;) Please tell me what you think! _

_Summary: Basically, Voldemort is gone, and everyone is supposed to be happy ... but are they, really? Because the war may be won, but the battle for a normal life isn't over yet. This story is doing just that - portraying the fact that not everything is cheerful and dancing just because a war is won. This fic will be telling little stories from a number of characters, so stay tuned. :)_

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have discovered the joys of writing fanfiction, and original stories. Thanks, JKR. :)_

---

Harry's jaw dropped.

He couldn't help himself. He had done it. It was over. Finished. He would have continued describing the ending in his head in this manner, but he felt dizzy, and light-headed. He felt like dancing, like cheering. But his body was numb all over, and he was exhausted. Without a sound, he fell forwards onto his knees. The ground was muddy from being trampled on during the battle, but he didn't care. His appearance wasn't really important at that moment.

There was a low rumbling noise in his ears. It was a while before he realised that it was cheering. He looked up.

Almost immediately, many warm bodies were pressing against him, and the sound of cheering was deafening him. His head was throbbing; he felt like screaming.

'You did it, Harry!' Tonks was yelling in his ear, 'You beat him!'

There were many slaps on the back, and tears of joy. But there was a bitterness to it too. Harry noticed, as two Aurors helped him off the mud, that there were bodies lying scattered all over the place. All, very still and lifeless. A short distance away, a group of Order members had rounded up the Death Eaters, and they were all bound and gagged. The Giants that Voldemort had used ... there was one of them, still roaring and stamping, Grawp still trying to wrestle him to the ground, Hagrid at his side. A number of wizards rushed up to them, and together, managed to bring it down.

While he was seeing this, his mind was a blur. He couldn't think; it was painful to think.

Suddenly, his whole body stiffened. A lot of people had rushed to him just now. But where were Ron and Hermione?

He pulled away from the Aurors, and he was suddenly more aware of his surroundings. His heart was banging against his ribcage, and his breath came out in shallow gasps. Harry looked around, his eyes darting from limp body to body, trying to find a mop of red hair ... a mane of bushy brown ...

'What the -?' one of the Aurors held up his hands, startled. 'Potter - what?'

There she was.

His heart went cold. He staggered over to the limp form of Hermione, and fell to his knees beside her. His hands were shaking as he turned her over; her eyes were closed, but he could feel her breathing slowly. A wave or relief washed over him, but it ebbed away rather quickly. For just then, his eyes had wandered a few feet away ... to where a huge snake was coiled. From underneath said snake, he could see a hand.

He let Hermione down gently, and crawled, on all fours towards the snake. It seemed to take for ever, to reach it. But when he did, he placed his hands underneath the snake's belly, and lifted. It was heavy, and with a lot of effort, he managed to move it aside.

The sight that met him wasn't pretty.

The body of a man lay before him, a chunk torn out of his side. His robes were damp with blood, and his eyes were wide open and glassy. Harry shuddered just looking at him. He averted his eyes. Another body lay beside him, a young man. This particular youth's breaths were coming out in chokes, and gasps. But even then, he was unconsious, eyes closed, sweat mingled with the dirt and blood on his freckled face.

Harry stared at the face, not breathing. He pressed his lips together, to stop the yell that was threatening to burst out. His brain felt jammed. _Not Ron. No, please not Ron. _There was a long, painful pause, and one of the Aurors who had helped him before came to crouch down next to him.

Without a word, the man stretched forwards, and took Ron's limp hand in his. There was a pause, then he turned to Harry.

'You better take this one to St. Mungo's. And quick. I'll stay here and help the others.'

Harry took one of Ron's arms and lifted him off the ground. He thought of the time when he had done the same with his cousin Dudley. And now, in his state, he couldn't help but feel relieved that Ron was only a half of Dudley's weight. 'How about -?' he looked at Hermione, who looked quite peaceful as she was.

'I'll take care of the girl,' said the Auror urgently. 'You take the boy - before it's too late.'

It felt good to be told what to do. He had been the one giving the instructions for so long, that he had forgotten how it was like. Hermione nagging him to do his homework didn't count. He nodded once, and took one step forwards.

---

There was a lot going on in Hogwarts. The Death Eaters were rounded up and under the watchful eye of Madame Pince, the librarian, and Filch, the caretaker. With eyes like theirs, they didn't stand a chance of escaping. Neville couldn't help but wonder whether there was something going on between the two. It had been a joke among the students for quite a while. Neville almost smiled.

But there were injured people to attend to, and wrongs to right.

His head was spinning. A lot had happened that night; the Death Eaters had broken in through Gryffindor Tower, and he was among the few who had stayed behind to stop them from going any further. He cringed, thinking of the sixth-year who had doubted him. But Neville couldn't blame him. He had always been a bit of a coward.

Not only that, but there were casualties. There was a small corner of his mind, that nagged him. What if he hadn't made the students stay and help? The poor kid wouldn't be dead, then. Shaking his head with a sigh, Neville walked on. He had to get to the Hospital Wing, to check on the students there. McGonagall had sent him - a very pale and shaky McGonagall that Neville had never encountered before.

It was frightening, to see McGonagall like that. It was almost as bad as seeing Dumbledore's body, wrapped up in cloth, ready for his funeral.

Suddenly, voices reached his ears; low, whispering voices. They were coming from a door to his right. The Charms classroom. Neville stopped, and for a wild moment, he wondered whether some of the Death Eaters had escaped after all.

Heart thumping, he took out his wand and held it in front of him, like a sword. He approached the noise, cautiously.

He crouched down, ear pressed to the keyhole, straining his ears to listen. He barely noticed the sweat dripping slowly off his face.

His eyes widened, as he listened. He could hear two voices; both male.

'We can't let this continue,' one of the voices hissed.

'I know that very well,' snapped the other. 'And what with the Dark Lord gone ...'

'Shut up!' the first voice said in a frantic whisper, 'He might come back. That's what he did before!'

'I doubt it. He's probably gone for good.'

'But -'

'Don't you dare "But" me. So what, if he's gone? We're smart enough to get out of the Ministry's way. Tell you what. What if he is still out there, eh? What if we were the ones who brought him back ...'

There was a short pause. 'We would ... he would ...'

'We'd be rewarded, won't we? That'll be more that what all the others got. Rewards beyond our wildest dreams ... and we could give him more than that.' The voice had reduced to a whisper, and Neville strained his ears to listen.

'More?' said the other voice, in a feverish whisper.

'We could get rid of Potter. So when we do bring him back ...'

'Nobody could stop him ...' the other voice finished, sounding excited.

'Exactly. Now ... come on, before they find us. Put your mask on, you idiot!'

Neville realised what was about to happen a split moment before it did.

The door opened, smacking him right in the face. Neville let out a cry of pain, as the side of his face throbbed painfully. Blinking through the pained tears in his eyes, he saw two tall figures, towering above him. There was a split second, where nobody moved. The Death Eaters were probably too surprised to react, and Neville couldn't think straight.

Immediately, both Death Eaters took out their wands.

Neville was going to die. He knew it. But he didn't want to die lying down like that. Let death come, if it had to. Neville whipped out his wand, and in that split moment, many things went through his head. Voledmort was gone. These people were out to get Harry ... he had to tell him, at least. Or stop them. Something.

He pointed his wand at the ceiling.

_'Reducto!'_ he yelled.

There was a loud crash, and he heard the Death Eaters cry out in pain as the ceiling came crashing down upon them.

Just as he was about to crawl away, maybe to call the teachers, a flaw appeared in his spur-of-the-moment plan. A terrible weight landed on his legs, pinning him down. The pain was blinding; Neville opened his mouth, but his scream of pain was drowned by the sound of falling debris. He choked as the dust got into his eyes, his mouth, his nose. He couldn't see anything, on account of the thick blanket of dust all around him.

Neville felt as if his sense had been numbed out. All he could see was grey. All he could hear was a constant rushing. All he could feel was the terrible throbbing pain in his head and legs.

When the 'avalanche' did end, Neville was lying on his front, barely able to move the rest of his body. His head was spinning, and there was an odd drowsiness in his eyes. He struggled to lift his head, maybe to call for help. But exhaustion took over, and he laid his head down on the floor, and closed his eyes.

---

_A/N And that wraps it up for this chapter. Stay tuned, 'cause I'm going through a lot of characters after this. Most probably students only, though. Next chapter ... well. I'm not going to tell you, am I? Let it be a surprise. :) Please leave a review, and tell me what you think. :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Not Over Yet**

**Chapter 2**

_A/N: Well, here's Chapter 2. Now, I really advise you to read _**Nothing Boring About A War**. _Some of the points in the second half will be a bit fuzzy, like a few characters mentioned and just how the Death Eaters broke into the Tower. Anyway, this chapter is Hermione and Ginny. A dash of RHr is also evident in this one. Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to it. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and maybe Warner Brothers. But mostly Rowling, I suppose. :) The only people I own in this are Healer Bretford, Kirke, Paul and Alex._

_---_

There was a striking smell in the air. The smell of something unbearably clean, white and starch-looking. The smell of magic was there too; of spells, and a whiff of something that she might have smelled in the Potions classroom. Hermione knew that smell. She had smelled it before. Not a smell she sniffed often, but still in her memory.

Hermione opened her eyes.

The scene somewhat matched the smell. Clean, white sheets, white-washed walls and sunlight pouring in through a window above her head. Slowly, she raised her head. Her body ached with the movement, but she didn't pay much attention to it. There were many other beds surrounding her. There were heads peeking over the bed sheets, and most of them were sound asleep. A few were sitting up, having what seemed to be breakfast.

Upon seeing her rise, these people smiled at her, and a few raised their spoons in greeting.

Hermione smiled back, slightly confused, and raised her hand, greeting them back. To her surprise, her right arm was wrapped up in a sort of cast; it looked much like a large glove.

Slowly, the memories of how that came to be came back to her. The battle. Her wand exploding in her face, Nagini attacking Ron...

_Ron._

The previous feeling of quiet peace seemed to evaporate before her eyes. She couldn't see the smiling people around her, or the starch white of the place. All she saw was darkness, and a huge serpent sinking its fangs into Ron's side. And the look of pain and horror that showed on his face.

She looked around, eyes darting from bed to bed, looking for a sign of bright red hair, or messy black. But she never found them.

Heart thumping loudly, she swung her legs off the bed. A cold shiver went up her legs as her skin made contact with the cool floor. She realised that many eyes were looking her direction now. Ignoring their incredulous stares, she stood up, and wrapped her blanket around herself. It was unusually cold, and the thin material she was wearing didn't really help.

Barefooted, she walked with as much dignity as she could muster towards the door. The doorknob was as cold as the floor, sending chills up her fingers. She pushed it open, and trotted down the corridors. They were empty, which she was thankful for. Staring about, her eyes found a large plaque with a number '4'. Hermione knew immediately that this was indicating the floor she was on.

She thought back to her last visit to the hospital, and recalled the floor guide she had seen. If Ron was in the hospital, he would be in ... the Creature-Induced Injuries floor. Thinking further, Hermione remembered the floor number.

With that, she strode on purposefully, her feet barely making a sound on the clean, marble floor. Portraits of witches and wizards watched her go by, many with surprised expressions on their faces.

'Shouldn't you be in bed?' asked one prim-looking witch.

'I'm looking for someone,' said Hermione shortly.

Finally, she came across a plaque reading '1'. She felt frightened now. She wanted to see Ron, badly. But along with that emotion was the feeling of dread, hanging about her like a great big raincloud. What if he wasn't there? He could be anywhere ... he could be ... but she refused to think about it. But whatever happened, she hoped that the raincloud wouldn't burst into a flood of bitter tears.

She rounded a corner, and without warning, bumped into a young man in lime-green Healer's robes. Hermione fell back in surprise, as the young man landed on the floor, the paperwork in his arms threatening to tip over. 'I'm sorry -' he began, before he caught sight of her attire. He stared, mouth slightly open. 'Ma'am?' he spluttered, straightening the paperwork in his arms, 'shouldn't you be in bed?'

Hermione would have laughed if the situation had allowed her to. 'I'm looking for someone,' she said for the second time that morning, standing up and wrapping her blanket closer around her. 'I would like to know ... would you happen to know which ward Ronald Weasley is in? And Harry Potter?'

'You really shouldn't be wandering around the halls alone like this -' the young man said, looking indignant. 'I should bring you back to your - sorry? Whose ward?' now he just looked confused.

Hermione took a deep breath and repeated what she had said before.

'Oh. The Chosen One ... Potter? And ... Weasley?'

She nodded, refraining from rolling her eyes.

'Oh. Yes. Well, Mr Potter was discharged this morning. Healer Bretford said that he's perfectly fine, nothing a simple Sleeping Potion can't cure, and lots of rest. As for Mr Weasley, he's in ward ... hold on,' he flipped through his stack of parchment, muttering to himself. A minute later, he pulled out a sheet with a flourish and smoothed it out. 'Mr Ronald Weasley,' he read, 'Poisonous snake bite, first floor, Dai Llewellyn Ward,' he looked up at her, 'I could bring you there, if you want. The paperwork can wait for a minute or two.'

'Er ... I think I could find it easily enough by myself, thanks,' said Hermione uncertainly. She was grateful for his offer, but she couldn't stand being around somebody so ... so _cheerful_, at that moment. Not when her own thoughts were centered on death and destruction.

'No, no, it's fine, like I said, the paperwork can wait,' said the young man eagerly, slipping the parchment back into the stack. He smiled warmly, and on second thought, Hermione decided that a bit of cheer would do her good.

The rest of her journey was, without doubt, a mixture of good morning cheer, (courtesy of Kirke, the Healer) and the before mentioned raincloud of dread. She tried to keep up with what Kirke was saying, but her mind kept wandering off.

If he was in a Ward, Ron should be alive. This was definitely a silver lining to her raincloud. But was he conscious? Just how much damage did the snake manage to -

'Er, Miss Granger?' Kirke waved an arm in her face. Hermione blinked. 'Sorry?'

'We're here.' he indicated the door on their left, which bore the words, _'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites'._ Immediately, Hermione thought of Mr Weasley, who had also been bitten by a snake in her fifth year. Nagini. The same snake.

Hermione reached forwards, and pulled the handle. The door opened easily, and she stood in the doorway, blanket still securely wrapped around her, and one hand in its cast.

There was a small silence. Then, a very familiar voice came, from within the room.

'Hermione?' croaked Ron, his torso wrapped in bandages, an expression of mingled surprise and relief on his face.

Without a second thought, Hermione ran towards him, the blanket lying forgotten at the door. She wrapped her arms around him, careful to not touch the wound. Ron hugged her back, and she couldn't have felt safer, in his warm - and very much alive - embrace. 'Hermione -' Ron began again, but before he could finish, she had her lips against his. At first, there was no response, and a small trickle of doubt entered her mind. But soon, he returned the kiss, and the feeling of doubt evaporated.

When they broke apart, Ron's blue eyes were wide. He raised a hand shakily, and stroked her hair. She leaned in closer, and she realised that there were tears in her eyes. 'Hermione,' said Ron uncertainly, eyeing her tear-filled eyes. 'Are you okay?' he reached up and brushed her tears away with his thumb, his face a faint shade of pink.

She met his eyes, and her fear of bursting into tears came true. But were they bitter tears? Most definitely not. 'Never better,' she sobbed, arms wrapped around his neck.

Kirke stood in the doorway, eyeing this scene with one hand hanging onto his stack of parchment, and the other dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. 'I've always liked happy endings,' he muttered to himself, before turning heel and striding away, blowing his nose as he went.

---

Ginny shuffled along in the corridor, accompanied by a tearful Demelza Robins. The 'battle', as you might call it, had ended, and those with injuries were in the Hospital Wing. Ginny knew that visiting at this hour would prove unsuccessful; Madam Pomfrey didn't allow visitors after midnight. But it didn't hurt them to try.

They had won, if you might call it that. A few injuries, but one death. That was partially why Ginny and Demelza weren't actually conversing. They still needed it to sink in first. Ginny didn't know the boy - a fifth year - very well. But the fact that one of their number did fall was quite a shock. She had seen him, just before the 'battle' started. Standing with two of his friends, looking uncertain and jumping up when her classmate, Alex Walker, had punched the boy who had yelled at him for calling Neville a hypocrite.

She had seen him fall. A bright flash of green, his body being flung across the Common Room into a wall. If the curse hadn't killed him, the force of the impact of his body against the portrait-covered wall would have done him in anyway. Ginny wondered how close Demelza was to him. She was sniffing beside her, looking pale.

Ginny decided to break the silence. 'What was his name?' she asked quietly.

Demelza looked up, startled. She wiped her face with her sleeve. 'Paul. He wasn't in my year, but he was really nice to us fourth years. I can't believe he's gone,' she mumbled.

With a sigh, Ginny placed her hand on Demelza's shoulder. 'I didn't know him very well. But from what I saw of him before all this trouble, he seemed like a nice guy.'

Silence followed this. They strode on, side by side. 'Er ... Ginny?' Demelza said suddenly, 'Do you think Jimmy -'

But what Demelza had been trying to say about Jimmy, Ginny didn't find out.

For just then, a loud bang echoed throughout the corridors. Ginny and Demelza stiffened eyes wide open and staring. Then, another noise followed. A distant rushing sound, like water, but only louder, and more powerful. Demelza, looking startled, bent over and touched the floor. She looked up at Ginny, looking surprised. 'The floor is vibrating,' she said.

Ginny frowned and touched the floor. Sure enough, it shook underneath her fingers. Quickly, she straightened and took out her wand. 'Take out yours, too,' she whispered. 'You never know ...' Demelza took out her own wand, looking frightened and determined at the same time.

They sprinted towards the noise, the sound of their falling footsteps muffled by the louder rumbling. Suddenly, the noise stopped. So did Ginny. Demelza turned around, looking puzzled. Ginny listened, hard. But the only sounds she could hear was the drumming of her own heart, and her own ragged breathing. She took a few deep breaths, and turned around, trying to tell where the noise had come from. She paused, pointing down the corridor.

'Come on!' she called to Demelza, running along, eyes looking around for the source of the noise. She could hear Demelza's footsteps behind her, thudding along on the floor. Finally, she caught sight of a huge pile of rubble, and a hole in the ceiling. She stopped mouth slightly open. What had caused this?

Demelza stopped behind her, and gasped. 'Oh my goodness,' she whispered, staring at the wreck.

The pile of rubble was huge, and there was a thick blanket of dust covering everything. Waving her hand to clear the air, she came closer to the rubble, wand held firmly in front of her. She turned to Demelza.

'If there's a Death Eater in there, I want you to run. Got it? Run for help, and don't stand around,' it was surreal, hearing the words come out of her mouth. It sounded like the kind of thing Harry would say. Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat. 'Got it?' she repeated. Demelza looked uncertain, but nodded her head reluctantly.

She moved closer and closer to the wreck, and crouched down. Still keeping a firm hold on her wand, she moved bits of debris away, wary of anything underneath. She moved one of the bigger pieces, and was met with what looked like a head of dark brown hair. Very dust-covered brown hair. With a small cry, Ginny jumped back, wand held in front of her, heart beating twice as normal in her chest. She heard a small stumbling noise behind her.

'What is it?' called Demelza, rooted to the spot.

'I don't know,' said Ginny, as calmly as she could. 'I'm going to get a proper look. If I call out to you to run, run. Okay?' Once again, she approached the rubble. Slowly, she reached forwards and moved the chunks of ceiling surrounding the head. Finally, she managed to get a glimpse of its face. 'Neville!' she cried out in shock.

'What?' said Demelza from behind, sounding startled.

'It's Neville!' cried Ginny, dropping her wand and moving the rocks aside with both hands, frantically. 'Come here, help me get him out!'

---

_A/N: Gosh, I found this chapter oddly slow. Hermione's bit took me a while to plan out, and quite a fair amount of research. The second bit was much easier, but somehow, I'm not very satisfied. Anyway, please tell me what you think! All you need to do is press that there review button ... such a simple task! Please:puppy dog eyes:_


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